


All I Want For Christmas Is You

by SeeBeeStrellacott



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Denmark Street Discord Sekrit Santa 2020, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28294122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeBeeStrellacott/pseuds/SeeBeeStrellacott
Summary: Sekrit Santa 2020Strike gets Robin an excellent Christmas present.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 29
Kudos: 35
Collections: Denmark Street Discord Sekrit Santa 2020





	1. Dec. 4th

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foreverhalffull](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverhalffull/gifts).



Robin tossed her pen on the desk and leaned back in her chair, exhausted after a long week of surveillance. She rubbed a hand over tired eyes and stretched. Strike glanced up at her, allowing himself to pause on the sliver of exposed midriff and the swell of her breasts for only a moment before forcing his eyes to continue up to her face.

“Finished?” he asked.

“Yes, finally! If I never see a dick pic again it will be all too soon.”

Strike chuckled, glad he hadn’t ended up with that case. Though he was sorry Robin had lost the coin toss, he enjoyed observing her annoyance throughout the case. 

“So who was it?” he asked.

“The neighbor.”

“And why was he slipping them through the letterbox?”

“Fuck if I know,” Robin said exasperatedly, causing Strike to bark with laughter at her unexpected outburst. “You owe me big time for taking that one.”

“Yeah? What’d you have in mind?” Strike asked, still chuckling.

Robin looked out at the dreary London evening, as sleet pelted the office window. “After spending the last week in that? I expect an exotic holiday to warm beaches.”

Strike grinned, mentally shaking himself from the vision her words had conjured - namely Robin in a bikini. “Let me consult my travel agent,” he teased.

“Well the least you can do is buy the takeaway tonight,” Robin said with mock sternness.

“You got it.”

The detectives had fallen into a pattern of having dinner or drinks in the office together every Friday. Strike hoped that one day they might be able to recreate that whisky-fueled night after he had accidentally elbowed Robin in the face, and had subsequently been interrupted by the ever timely Barclay. They had grown closer not only in friendship, but also to crossing that invisible line that for so long he had feared crossing. Strike was certain now that the attraction was mutual, but hadn’t figured out how to make that final transition into a romantic relationship.

He had come to think of their Fridays together as “dates”, but he had yet to ask Robin out for real. They had gotten cozier during these “dates”, often sitting on the sofa together instead of one of them at Pat’s desk. A few times they had even watched the telly together in his flat. Those evenings had ended with awkward pauses where neither were sure if they should try for a kiss or not. Hugs, however, were becoming more common, as were kisses to the cheek and added to the end of text messages. What he needed was a grand gesture of some sort - something that says “I really care about you and want a relationship with you, and yeah, I  _ want  _ you, but I’m not just a horny bastard.”

With Christmas approaching, Strike had one wild moment where he considered offering her exactly what she had asked for, but he dismissed the idea, thinking that it might be a little  _ too  _ grand of a gesture.


	2. Dec. 11th

Robin sat with her feet tucked up under her on the office sofa, drinking white wine out of a coffee mug. Strike sat at the other end of the flatulent sofa, turned towards her slightly with his arm resting along the back. His hand was tantalizingly close to her elbow, and his fingers practically itched with the need to see if her sweater was as soft as it looked.

“You did not!”

“Hand to God,” he chuckled, raising his right. “In my defense, it was a dark pub, and I was already pretty pissed. Also, he...she was very pretty.”

“At what point did you realize it was a bloke?”

“When her Adam's apple moved, as I was kissing her neck.”

Robin threw her head back with laughter. “Well? Was she a good kisser?”

“Not the best I’ve had, but not bad either.”

Robin roared with laughter again.

“Nick’s never let me hear the end of it. Always reminds me to check that mine’s the only dick before I get too involved.”

Robin wiped at her streaming eyes as she tried to catch her breath from laughing so hard.

“More wine?” Strike asked, getting up to retrieve another can of Tennent’s. 

“Pleeeeease,” Robin responded, drawing out the word and holding out her mug. Strike chuckled to himself, recognizing the signs of “Tipsy Robin” emerging. He rather liked “Tipsy Robin.” She was often more touchy-feely than sober Robin.

“Lucy called me today,” Strike began as he sat back down. “She wants to take Ted on a Caribbean cruise for Christmas, and asked if I wanted to join them.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely.” Robin’s head lolled back against the sofa, and her arm swung out towards him, her fingers grazing his thigh.

Strike turned his attention back to her face with difficulty. “Stuck on a boat with Adam and Luke and  _ Greg _ ? Not bloody likely. I told her we were too busy right now and that you were already taking the time off.”

“But we  _ aren’t _ that busy right now,” Robin teased.

“No, but she doesn’t know that, does she?”

“So what are you doing, if you’re not going to Cornwall?” She placed her hand on his arm for a moment, then tucked it under her head. 

“Dunno. Enjoying the peace and quiet I suppose. What about you? Are you going back to Masham?”

Robin visibly deflated, and Strike was almost sorry he had asked.  _ Almost _ . 

“I really don’t want to. Matt and Sarah will be showing off their new baby, I’m sure. I’d like to see Annabel, but she won’t really know if I’m there or not. What I would really love would be to just get out of here, go somewhere else, you know?”

Strike nodded. He did know. Though he knew Robin didn’t miss her ex-husband, he sympathized with not wanting to run into him and the woman he had fucked in Robin’s bed and had subsequently impregnated.

“Where would you go?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I probably won’t go anywhere. Just daydreaming.”

“Well if you decide to stay in London, we could always be lonely together.” 

“I’d like that,” Robin smiled. “Cheers!” She giggled and clinked her mug against his can.


	3. Dec. 18th

“But it’s not Christmas yet!” Robin protested. “You can’t give me my gift yet! Plus I don’t even have yours wrapped!”

“That’s OK, I wasn’t expecting anything right now. But yours is sort of time sensitive, so you have to open it now.”

“OK fine,” Robin relented. 

She opened the box to find a packet of travel documents. There was a brochure for a cruise line, another for “Top things to do in Greece”, and two airline tickets. Robin stared at the documents, her mind failing to put the pieces together until she read the names and destination on the airline tickets.

“You’re taking me to Greece?!” she exclaimed, hardly daring to believe it.

“On a cruise. I got the idea from Lucy taking Ted. I got it on one of those last minute deals, so the cabins aren’t very nice I’m afraid, I don’t even think they have windows - “

The rest of his rambling was cut off as Robin threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Cormoran! This is incredible! I don’t even know what to say!”

“The boat sails from Athens on Christmas day, so we’ll fly there on the twenty-fourth. We’ll each have our own cabin, of course.”

“How did you know I wanted to go to Greece? I don’t think I ever mentioned it.”

“You do? Well that’s lucky. That’s where the deal happened to be for. And I just thought, ‘warm beaches’ and all. How long have you wanted to go to Greece?”

At this, Robin’s face flushed for some reason. She stammered, “I...well, I haven’t really. I mean, just since the Bamborough case. Remember, there was a witness there?”

“Yeah, but why are you blushing?” he teased.

“I am not!”

Strike chuckled. He loved teasing Robin, and he loved it even more when she got flustered. “Yes you are, your cheeks are flushed.” He reached up a hand and lightly grazed her flaming cheek with the back of his knuckles.

“Alright, fine. I had a little - very short lived! - fantasy of getting away from the fucked up mess we were dealing with here and having a short holiday break in Greece.”

She was avoiding looking him in the eye, and it suddenly occurred to him that perhaps her little daydream was less than innocent. He felt a stirring in his trousers and his grin widened. He couldn’t resist teasing her a little more, hoping to find out the full nature of her daydream.

“So you’re embarrassed because you were picturing me in a speedo? I’d probably blush at the thought of all this hair too.” He gestured toward his torso and Robin’s blush deepened as her eyes quickly darted away again.

“It wasn’t like that!” she protested.

Strike decided to take pity on her, such was her mortification. He was certain he had hit pretty close to the truth, and even though they flirted quite frequently, he didn’t think she was as convinced of the mutual attraction as he was. And so he let the joke die, lest it taint his Christmas present.

“I’m sorry, I’m just taking the piss. C’mere.” He held his arms out, gesturing for a hug. She gladly stepped into his arms and tucked her head under his chin. “So? Do you want to go to Greece with me?” he asked as he rubbed soothingly along her back.

“Absolutely!” Robin leaned back to smile up at him.

“Great! I’ll bring my speedo,” he said with a wink.


	4. Dec 25th

Robin was already in the breakfast room when Strike came down next morning. She was sipping a cup of coffee and perusing the cruise brochure he had given her. She looked adorable this morning, wearing white jeans and a navy sweater that hugged her curves. Strike filled a plate with eggs, bacon, and toast before joining her. Robin looked up as he slid in across from her.

“Merry Christmas,” she greeted him. “Did you ever think we’d be spending Christmas morning together in Greece?”

“Can’t say that I did,” he grinned. “But I’m happy we are.”

“Me too,” Robin said softly. There was a moment, a brief passing moment, where they looked into each other’s eyes and each looked like they wanted to say more, but both instead turned to their breakfast. 

They idly chatted about which ports they were most looking forward to as they munched on toast and sipped their coffee. Robin’s excitement was mounting, with a full week of uninterrupted time with Cormoran in front of her. There would be no cases to sort out, no odd hours to keep, only fun and relaxation with her best mate. Robin hoped that at some point during their holiday they might find that magical moment that had so far eluded them. 

They gathered their things and took a cab to the port where they would board their ship. Their mutual excitement took an unexpected turn, however, then they checked in. 

“I’m sorry sir,” the clerk said, “but we are overbooked and one of your rooms was reassigned.”

“Reassigned? What the fuck does that mean?” Strike asked, his temper quickly flaring.

“Well, sir, you booked through one of our bargain websites. As the terms and conditions state, your room is not actually guaranteed until you check in.”

“So you gave away the room that I’ve already paid for?” Strike roared.

“As compensation, we’ve upgraded you to a king-sized balcony room.” The clerk smiled, as if this was good news.

“Great! Where is the other one of us supposed to sleep? On the fucking balcony?”

The clerk looked uncertainly between Strike and Robin, as if he couldn’t understand why the couple would need separate rooms.

“Cormoran, it’s fine, really. There aren’t any other rooms, so we don’t have much of a choice. We’ll just make the best of it,” Robin cajoled. “That will be fine, thank you,” she said to the clerk and he handed her the room keys, looking apologetic.

Even through his irritation, Strike felt a thrill of excitement. He would now be sharing close quarters with Robin -  _ romantic  _ quarters, by the sound of it. He had hoped that they might end up sharing a bed anyway, but he did regret that it was no longer by choice. He wondered if he should abandon his plan to finally tell Robin how he felt about her, now that she no longer had her own space to which she could retreat.

As they boarded the ship, Robin could feel the tension rolling off of her partner. She wondered if he was more irritated that the reservation had been mixed up or if it was that he would no longer have his own space. Or perhaps he was simply uncomfortable with the idea of sharing a room with her?

He didn’t say a word as they made their way to their cabin. The room was spacious by cruise ship standards, with a large sliding door that opened to the balcony. The bed was adorned with two towels folded to look like swans. The swans had their heads together in a kiss, their necks forming the shape of a heart.

Robin stepped out onto the balcony to appreciate the view and turned back around to see Strike staring at the bed, running a hand through his hair. His attention turned to the rest of the room, and Robin could tell exactly what he was looking for.

“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re not going to sleep on the floor,” Robin said as she stepped back through the door. “Your back and your knee would never survive a week of that.”

“I’ve slept in worse places,” he countered. “Besides, there’s no way I’m taking the bed and letting  _ you  _ sleep on the floor.”

“Yeah, and you were much younger then,” Robin teased. “Look, it’s a king sized bed, we can share; we’ll have plenty of room. It’s not like we haven’t slept in tight places before. Besides, we’re not even going to be in here that much.”

Strike leveled her with a look. “Robin, we’ve slept in the Land Rover together. I don’t think that’s quite the same thing as sharing a bed.”

“Why, are you afraid I might do something untoward?” she teased, causing him to chuckle. “I promise I won’t touch you,” she teased further.

Strike huffed a laugh and tossed his jacket on the bed, conceding. “C’mon, what do you say we go explore before dinner?”

They wandered the length of the boat and back, checking out what each floor had to offer. There was a never ending supply of food everywhere, which made Strike happy. Robin commented that she had expected more families, but Strike informed her that this was more of an adult-oriented cruise line. 

The hot tubs were already full of people, but there were a few less populated areas of the ship that looked very inviting. One was a solarium with a heated spa pool that Robin was keen to try out after dinner. After exploring, they settled in the lounge for drinks and watched the shore slowly disappear as they set sail out to sea. 

There was to be a Christmas ball on board that evening, so the detectives retired back to their cabin to change. It was starting to sink in for Strike just how awkward sharing a room was going to be, especially when Robin announced that she was going to take a shower before dinner. Strike sat out on the balcony, trying to give her more privacy, but he could still hear the water running. Just thinking about Robin all naked, wet, and soapy just on the other side of the thin door was causing an uncomfortable ache in his groin. He quickly changed into his suit, sprayed on some cologne, and called through the door that he would wait for her in the lounge. 


	5. The Ball

Strike sat at the bar sipping his whisky, unable to tear his mind away from the bed that he would be sharing with Robin later, at her insistence. Would it be inappropriate now to confess his feelings for her, when she would be trapped with him in such close proximity? His plan had been to tell her tonight, at the Christmas ball. He looked around the lounge and spotted a comfortable looking sofa in the corner. He supposed he could always sleep there, if things didn’t work the way he hoped. Or perhaps he should wait until they were back in London to finally make his move. 

His attention was caught by a flash of green in the doorway. As he turned, his heart thudded painfully in his chest, and he knew there was no way he could wait until they were back in London. Propriety be damned, there was no way he would make it through the evening without telling this gorgeous woman how much he loved her hair, her laugh, her friendship...fuck, just everything about her. He loved  _ her _ . 

Robin strode up to him wearing the green dress he had given her, along with a smirk that said she had seen his jaw hit the floor. 

“Wow, you look incredible,” he said and leaned in to kiss her cheek, getting a heavy wave of warm musk and crushed flowers. 

“So do you,” she said as she gave his tie a gentle tug.

“Shall we?” And he stood, offering her his arm.

They went through to the dining room together, where a traditional Christmas feast was served. When the desserts had been cleared, the center of the dining room opened up into a large dance floor. The DJ started playing Jingle Bell Rock, and couples moved onto the dancefloor as the lights overhead dimmed. Robin sipped her wine, and Strike could tell that her feet were tapping out the beat under the table. 

“You wanna dance?” he asked, pushing back his chair.

“I didn’t think you danced.”

“I don’t normally take Greek cruises either,” he teased. “But can you blame me for wanting to dance with the most beautiful woman in the room?”

Robin’s cheeks flushed and she dipped her head shyly as Strike extended a hand to her. She looked up at him through her lashes and softly placed her hand in his. Strike held her hand close as they made their way to the dancefloor. The song changed, and Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas” started. Strike abruptly spun Robin out away from him and pulled her back against his chest before twirling them across the dancefloor.

“I had no idea you could dance like this,” Robin giggled. 

“I may be a grumpy, fat, old fucker, but I know my way around a dancefloor.” 

The music changed again, and Strike pulled her closer as Michael Buble crooned “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.” He slid a hand around her waist as he tucked her hand into his chest. His fingers toyed with hers and he rested his cheek against the top of her head. Robin inhaled his lavender aftershave and smiled. He dropped his head slightly, so that he was closer to her ear. She could feel his breath on her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. 

The mood was abruptly ruined as Robin remembered something.

“Bugger, I’ve just realized I forgot to bring your present with me,” she said, pulling back to look in his eyes.

The corner of his mouth pulled up in a small smile, and his hand moved from her fingers to her cheek, where he swept her hair back from her ear. His fingers lingered tentatively on her neck, his thumb lightly bruising her cheek.

“That’s alright,” he murmured, “everything I want is right here.” His eyes dropped briefly to her mouth, then returned to gaze deeply into the liquid blue of her irises.

Robin’s step faltered for just a moment. “Cormoran? I… do you mean what I think you mean?”

He smiled, his lips trembling slightly. “If by that you mean ‘do I want to be with you,’ the answer is yes, I do.” He gave her a moment for his statement to sink in before continuing. “Robin, when I met you, I was on the brink of true destitution. Everything I have now is because of you. The agency used to be the most important thing in my life, but now… it’s you.”

Tears stung at Robin’s eyes as his words sunk in. She was still processing being more important to him than the agency when she realized that he was still talking.

“ - swear I didn’t plan the rooms to work out this way. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or pressured at all. I can sleep on the sofa in the lounge so you can have some priv-”

His words were cut off when Robin thrust a hand into his hair and pulled his mouth to hers. His shock lasted for only a second before he opened to her kiss and allowed her to invade his mouth. She tasted sweet and warm, and Strike was totally lost. He didn’t care that they were in the middle of a crowded room, his only thought was of Robin’s tongue twirling with his and her arms around his neck. He pulled her closer, one hand sliding up her back, the other threading through the hair at the back of her neck. He kissed her until he thought his knees would buckle, then he kissed her some more. 

After what seemed like hours, or even days, Robin pulled away breathing heavily. Strike rested his forehead against hers as he tried to catch his own breath. 

“It’s a little crowded in here,” he murmured at last. “What do you say we get some air?”

Robin nodded against him and he slid his hand down her arm to grasp her hand. He kissed the back of her knuckles before tucking her hand into his elbow. Strike escorted her to the back of the boat, which was completely deserted. He leaned against the railing and pulled her back into his arms.

“God, it feels good to hold you,” he whispered against her ear.

“How long?” she asked. “How long have you felt this way?”

“Honestly I don’t even know. But it feels like forever.”

Robin smiled against him. “For me as well.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Why did we wait so long?”

“I have no fucking idea,” he growled and pulled her mouth to his for a searing, all-consuming kiss.

***

They made their way back to their room after Robin insisted that he would most certainly  _ not  _ be sleeping on the sofa in the lounge. The door to their cabin hadn’t even fully closed when Robin pushed him roughly against it and claimed his mouth with hers, her tongue plunging insistently inside. She started tugging at his tie, trying to loosen it while simultaneously trying to push the jacket from his shoulders. Strike tried to pull away, but her mouth chased his.

“Robin, slow down,” he chuckled against her lips. “We don’t have to do anything tonight. I’m happy to just be with you.”

“That’s great, Cormoran, but I’m not satisfied with just cuddling,” she said impatiently, trying to claim his mouth once more. Suddenly she pulled back. “Unless, you don’t want to?”

“Of course I want to.” He pushed his hips against her for emphasis, allowing her to feel just how much he wanted her. “I just don’t want you to think, since there’s only the one bed…” He swallowed heavily and she could see his internal struggle playing out behind his eyes. “I want you to know that I don’t expect anything.”

She smiled softly at him. “I know, Cormoran. And that’s precisely why I lo-” Her words cut off and her face flushed.

Strike’s fingers flexed around her waist. “That’s why you love me?” he asked, a smug smile playing at his lips. 

Robin dropped her eyes, looking anywhere but at him. “No, that’s not what I meant, I-”

“Robin.” His voice was low and seductively soft as he said her name, his hand cupping her chin to draw her eyes back up to his. “I love you too.” A whisper was all he could manage, and he hoped she didn’t notice how his voice had cracked with the force of his emotion. He whispered it again in her ear, his voice stronger. 

He whispered those words again and again, as he pulled down the zipper of her dress, as he fervently kissed across her fevered skin, and as he moved with her and over her, drowning in the sea of passion. He whispered those words before they fell asleep in each other’s arms. And when she woke the next morning, those wonderful words were the first sound Robin heard.

“You’re going to have quite the challenge next Christmas,” she teased. “You’ve set the bar rather high.”

“I have, haven’t I? Good thing I have a whole year to come up with something even better.”

“Good luck, because this was the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

“I bet I can come up with something,” he teased. “I love you,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

Robin smiled against his chest, the hair there tickling her skin. “So you’ve said. A few hundred times.”

“Wouldn’t want you to forget,” he chuckled.

“Then I guess you should probably tell me again.”

Strike growled and flipped her over onto her back, murmuring in her ear, “I love you, Robin.”

Robin wrapped her legs around his waist. “We should probably leave the room at some point. You know, so we can actually go see Greece.”

“There’s always next year,” he teased and nuzzled into her neck. He pressed his hips into her, causing her to forget all about sightseeing. 

“Next year,” she agreed against his lips as she kissed him softly.


End file.
